


Baptism by Fire

by reallifeselkie



Category: Queen (Band), roger taylor - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22117054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallifeselkie/pseuds/reallifeselkie
Summary: Christine is an adventurer at heart who's found herself in the unfortunate predicament of being stuck in a boring life. However, she only becomes aware of this when Roger and John move into the flat next door. They, along with Freddie and Brian, are in a rock band on the cusp of becoming 'the next big thing' and their hectic lives force Christine to confront her unchanging, habitual life. She grows particularly close to the womanising, party boy, Roger but things are never as easy as people wish.
Relationships: Roger Taylor (Queen)/Original Character(s), Roger Taylor (Queen)/Original Female Character(s), oc/roger taylor
Kudos: 1





	Baptism by Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically an oc as I'm not the biggest fan of y/n being scattered about all over the fic but, I've written it first person and tried to use the character name as little as possible so it should be pretty easy to read as a reader fic.

It's Sunday afternoon and the sun is unusually bright for mid-April, a slight breeze through the open livingroom window lifts the net curtains. I absentmindedly hum The Kinks as I sit and read my book, the only other sound is the happy chirping of birds from outside. The peace is blissful after the extremely chaotic work week I’d just had so I'm glad to have a day to myself to sit and do nothing. 

I'm snapped out of my daydream by a sudden crash followed by a loud altercation outside, sighing and rolling my eyes, I get up off the sofa and stomp over to the window to investigate. There's a large estate car parked on the street, filled to the roof with cardboard boxes, with a few boxes upended and its contents spilt out onto the pavement, on either side of the mess are two men, one blonde, wearing an explosion of colourful clothes in clashing patterns, the other has brown hair and is wearing all black with black platforms, not exactly a common sight in West Kensington. 

From what I can tell they're arguing because the one with the brown hair had opened the door and some boxes had fallen out, the blonde is currently gesticulating wildly at the pile on the floor and up at the sky. I decide to stop spying and go back to the sofa to mind my own business, picking up my book again. After five minutes the shouting stops from downstairs but annoyingly continues right outside the front door, and then it clicks; the flat next door had been up for rent, oh fuck, the shouters are my new neighbours. 

*** 

The sun is almost starting to set as I walk back to my flat after my weekly solo trip to get a Chinese takeaway and I can't wait to get a bath and an early night before I have to go back to work tomorrow. I'm debating what I'm going to have for lunch tomorrow when I run straight into one of my new neighbours. 

‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ I rush, smoothing down my hair, totally embarrassed that this is the first impression I'm making. 

‘Hey, no worries, it’s always a pleasure to bump into a pretty girl.’ The blonde says winking and throwing me a cocky grin. 

Turning scarlet I stammer ‘ah, cool, so um, I think I’m your new neighbour, I’m Christine.’ 

‘Roger.’ he holds out his hand which I shake politely, he shakes back enthusiastically and gestures to the guy from earlier with the brown hair. ‘That’s John, my roommate and your other new neighbour!’ 

I smile politely at John who doesn’t offer his hand but simply nods in my direction, I stifle the urge to roll my eyes, noting that he seems rude.

‘Listen,’ Roger puts a hand on my shoulder ‘we’re having a little flat warming shin-dig tonight, emptying a few boxes, emptying a few bottles, if you could make it that would be sublime’ he says quirking an eyebrow and smirking. 

‘Sublime?’ I tease. 

‘Sublime.’ He states with only a hint of the humour he’d shown previously. 

‘Okay, I’ll be sure to drop by at some point’ 

‘We’ll see you at eight o’clock sharp.’ He grins before waving goodbye and shepherding John towards their door. 

I'm left standing in the stairway landing, bewildered by the whirlwind that is Roger and slightly put off by John who didn’t utter a single word to me and barely cracked a smile. I'm unsure what to think of him and whether or not I can be bothered to be nice to him. Roger on the other hand is sublime and I'm sure I can be nice to him. 

Roger and John’s flat is packed to near capacity when I walk in a cool twenty minutes late, although the people are mostly obscured by the thick haze of cigarette smoke, as well as, from the smell, a hint of marijuana. From what I can see, people are sitting on boxes rather than furniture and it seems that nothing has been unpacked so my best guess is that the emptying of bottles has been the most successful part of their get-together. I do a quick lap of the room looking out for Roger as I go, feeling very uncomfortable not knowing anyone. 

‘You must be the neighbour.’ A voice appears out of the smoke and a black painted nail attached to a long finger beckons me. I move closer to see the person behind the voice, a man is lounging on what I believe to be the only chair in the flat. He has striking features; long, jet black hair, strong chin, high cheekbones, sharp nose and piercing eyes which are emphasised by thick, smoky eyeliner. He is surrounded by people who are all looking up at me from the floor where they sat. ‘I’m Freddie, Roger and John’s bandmate, I’m certain we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.’ He quips with a knowing look. 

‘Um, Christine. Sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean by that.’ I shoot him a quizzed look. 

‘Darling, John has hardly shut up about you, and I see what he means, you’re truly delightful’ 

His response only creates more questions, I'm sure he's joking about John since we didn’t even speak, it was probably Roger that had told Freddie about me, did that mean he thought I was ‘delightful’ as Freddie put it, no! I'm NOT going there. Unless it really was John and he told Freddie how much he disliked me, and Freddie being nice to me is all a cruel joke at my expense. 

‘Brian!’ Freddie laughs, ‘You must come over here, meet Christine.’ 

A tall man with a mass of soft curly hair appears, he is unbelievably skinny with a strong nose and very kind eyes. He smiles sweetly and shakes my hand.  
‘Nice to meet you.’ Brian says with a nod. 

‘You too, Brian.’ I reply. 

‘Christine, you made it!’ Roger appears, hugging me and placing an arm around my shoulder. 

‘I sure did!’ I tell him with a laugh, studying him I can see that he already has a good buzz going a mere half hour into the party. My smile falters only for a second when I notice that his pupils are blown and there is what looks like lipstick around his lips and neck. Seems like Roger was friendly with everyone, the boy is obviously trouble. 

‘Come and get a drink!’ he says grabbing the bottle of rum in my hand, then grabbing my now free hand with his other, leading me into the kitchen. 

The kitchen is small, roughly the same size as mine. Apart from a few minor refurbishments done over the years our flats seem to be mirror images of each other. John, to my surprise, is perched on the countertop surrounded by people who all seem to be focused on him. He's clearly in the middle of a very interesting story and everyone appears enthralled by it, laughing and nodding for him to carry on. I raise my eyebrows, despite only meeting John once, it feels odd to me seeing him be the centre of attention, looking so animated compared to his aloof, standoffish persona from earlier. My thoughts are pulled away from John by Roger who nudges me with a glass, I sniff it and am glad that it is just a rum and coke and not some weird Roger concoction, I don’t know why but Roger strikes me as the type to come up with odd cocktails. He must have seen my concern because he laughs and says ‘Relax, I’m not a bar man, that’s more John’s bag.’ I look over to John and catch him looking at me intensely, he promptly averts his gaze and continues his conversation. 

‘He’s okay really, just quiet.’ Roger says, following my eyes to John. 

‘He doesn’t seem to be quiet around anyone except me, I get the feeling he doesn’t like me very much.’ I admit shocked at my own honesty and embarrassed by the vulnerability in my voice. 

Roger plays with a strand of my hair that has fallen loose, ‘He’s shy, he’ll warm up soon I promise. Plus, it doesn’t matter because I like you enough for two.’ He cocks an eyebrow, but his eyes look serious. ‘Dance with me?’ He asks, taking my hand. 

I glance around the kitchen; it's quite busy, but no one is dancing. ‘Here?’ I whisper to him, hoping he can sense my concern. 

‘No, silly! In the living room.’ He laughs as he leads me out of the kitchen. 

He holds my hips and begins swaying, I put my arms over his shoulder, holding my drink in my hands behind his head. I know that I'm being stupid dancing with Roger; he’d clearly been with another woman tonight judging by the lipstick all over him and I doubt that alcohol was the only stimulation he’d had. But it was too easy to forget that with his body pressed against me, hands guiding my hips. ‘These arms of mine, they are yearning, yearning from wanting you’. I allow myself to look into his eyes which were pale blue, doe-like and framed with long darker lashes. ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’ I find myself saying before I can stop myself. ‘These arms of mine, they are burning, burning from wanting you’. I notice him taking in my face, presumably trying to say the right words. 

‘Your lips are beautiful.’ he whispers, mirroring my compliment. 

He leans towards me, pressing my body closer to him with one hand on my back and cupping my cheek, I feel eyes on me just as our lips are about to meet. I flick my eyes over to the kitchen and see John, looking me dead in the eye. Roger must’ve sensed my hesitation because he pulls back, keeping his hand on my cheek ‘Are you okay?’ 

‘Yeah.’ I reassure him, ‘I’m just not sure this was a good idea.’ I say quickly, moving my hands from around him to firmly by my side and taking a small step back. ‘I should go.’ 

Roger looks puzzled but he doesn’t put up a fight as I walk past him, a goodbye struggling to come out his mouth. I wave a goodbye to Freddie and Brian, and purposefully don’t look in the direction of the kitchen as I make a beeline for the door. 

In the hall I'm trying to unlock my front door when a slam causes me to drop my keys. As I scramble on my knees to pick them up, a pair of hands appear handing me my keys. I look up to thank the stranger, stopping dead as I recognised John. 

‘Hi.’ He says, simply. 

‘Hi.’ I reply. 

I take the keys from him and smile awkwardly. ‘Thank you.’ I say, my voice almost abandoning me. 

‘I’ll let you get going.’ John says with finality. 

‘Goodbye.’ I turn and unlock my door, wasting no time getting inside my flat. 

I finally allow myself to exhale once I'm inside with the door firmly shut. The conversation with John had been extremely awkward, but it was a conversation nonetheless, which was progress. I throw the keys on the table next to the door and trudge to the bathroom, as I brush my teeth my mind wanders to Roger. I can't believe I’ve been stupid enough to get so close to him, it was so out of character for me. I’m usually shy and take a while to come out of my shell but for unknown reasons I’d decided that I’d make an exception for Roger. 

I practically crawl to my bedroom, utterly exhausted. I barely have the energy to kick my trousers off and peel away my t-shirt before crashing into bed not even having time to process what really happened that night.


End file.
